


oh no, they're dads this time

by atheoryon



Series: Mandatory Fun [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Parents, Alternate Universe - Teachers, M/M, Swearing, because they're Responsible Adults, not in front of any children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 17:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18526525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atheoryon/pseuds/atheoryon
Summary: He shook his head to clear it and then turned back to Connor, cursing himself for getting so distracted by a pretty face when he had a kid to look after. It had been a really pretty face, but still. He watched as Connor collected his stuff and waved a quick “bye-bye Mr. B.” to the teacher, before they left the school, chatting about the plans for that weekend.Or; "Mr. B" subs for Clint's kid, and he falls in love. That's it.





	oh no, they're dads this time

**Author's Note:**

> For MFD's kid prompt!
> 
> Title is technically a lie because Clint is the only dad in this but, y'know, artistic liberty

Look, Clint was the first to admit he wasn’t always the best dad. He probably let the little thing eat pizza a few too many times, and he didn’t really have ‘rules’ the same way the other parents at Connor’s school seemed to have, but he tried his best and Connor was happy and healthy and the best fucking thing about his life, so Clint thought he did all right most of the time. 

 

The kid - Connor was eight now and at some point Clint really should start thinking of him as ‘Connor’ in his head but ‘the kid’ had sort of accidentally stuck - was just about to start third grade, but for now they were enjoying the last week of the holidays by going shopping for school stuff, because apparently eight-year-olds needed ridiculous amounts of stationery and a new lunch box and “c’mon daddy, they’ve got the new Pokémon magazine here!” and yeah, Clint was a sucker for the kid. Sue him, it was a nice summer’s day and when Connor smiled like he was the fucking sun, Clint really couldn’t help but give in. 

 

It’s not until they’ve sat down at one of the approximately gazillion little cafés in New York that Connor calms down a bit, but still happily talking about the classmates he’s going to see again and wondering about the new teacher he’d get when he enters third grade. 

 

This year, the school Connor attends is getting two new teachers, as per the email sent out at the beginning of the summer holidays, which had sent Connor and the other parents into a bit of a frenzy, because according to Connor “new teachers are always the coolest, at least that’s what Aisha says, her sister had a new teacher two years ago and he let them do all sorts of cool science experiments!”. 

 

The parents in the group chat Clint had to be a part of some reason had gone into a very different sort of frenzy, which mostly included Facebook stalking and a friend of a cousin of a husband who knew so and so who knew one of the teachers, and that had been the point where Clint had muted the chat for the remaining weeks of the holidays. He liked to think he was pretty laid-back when he wasn’t waking up in the middle of the night because of a nightmare about his dad, but with the new school year so close, he was getting a bit nervous as well. With previous years he’d always been able to talk to another parent who had an older kid and knew the teacher, but he wasn’t about to go down the Facebook stalking session himself. So, he’d have to go for making his judgment based on the few minutes he’d see him as he dropped Connor off. 

 

Ah, well, it’d have to do. For now, he was enjoying the sun, his coffee, and aw, kiddo, no, Connor had spilled his lemonade over his piece of apple pie because he’d gotten so excited in the flapping of his hands that he hadn’t watched where his hands were. Clint righted the glass quickly, and lifted the piece of apple pie to hopefully salvage some of it, but it was clearly a lost cause. Sensing Connor’s distress, he ruffled the kid’s hair, a soft smile on his face as he said: “Hey, it’s all right, we can get a new piece. You just got a bit excited, nothing to worry about, remember?”. Satisfied, with Connor’s nod, he signalled for the waitress, getting a new piece of pie for Connor and another cup of coffee for him, because he might as well.

  
  


-o-

 

The transition into the new school year had gone about as well as expected, with all the usual anxieties and worries, which were amplified by the fucking helicopter parent of a Deborah, whose daughter Connor was friends with, which was fine, Caitlyn was, despite her unfortunate name, a lovely kid, but Deborah insisted on talking about whatever issues were going on with the PTA in front of the kids, which was quite frankly, fucking annoying.

 

Luckily, all Clint’s worries about how Connor would deal with the new teacher, were put to rest on the first day of school, when the elusive Mr. Rogers asked him to stay for a bit when he came to pick Connor up. As Connor happily started resorting some of his Pokémon cards, Mr. Rogers - please, Steve is fine - showed Clint some of the notes last year’s teacher had sent him with regards to Connor being autistic, making sure they were all correct and even asking Connor himself if he had something to add, and Clint could honestly weep with joy at that because he’d had to deal with a teacher who just talked like Connor couldn’t think for himself because he was autistic, and it had been terrible.

 

So, all in all, as the school year went on, everything was going pretty good. Connor was learning a lot, and happy about it as well, Mr. Rogers was apparently some kind of dream come true for kids and moms alike, with his smiles and enthusiasm for everything the little kids made. The muscles probably helped for the moms as well, but Clint had some principles and those included his kid’s teacher and soccer moms’ types. 

 

Really, it warmed Clint’s heart when Connor came home with stories about his day, a new word he’d learned or set him down with the full force and determination of an eight-year-old and read Harry Potter to him. Of course, there were also bad days, when Connor had a meltdown or couldn’t deal with the sounds or other kids, but on those days Steve was a God-sent as well, always listening to him and helping him until Clint came to pick him up, if it came to that. 

 

It wasn’t until the second half of the year, that things changed from their usual routine. Steve was sick, as he’d been told by about five different moms, and the other new teacher, Mr. Barnes, was substituting for him as his class was visiting a high school for the day. When he came to pick Connor up, he was almost swept off his feet by an eight-year-old telling him enthusiastically about how “Mr. Barnes taught us all about the Russians, daddy! They had, they had,” he stumbled a bit over the unfamiliar word, “a czar! And Anastasia isn’t true at all but we still watched the movie!”. Clint laughed at his enthusiasm, happy the day had gone well, and looked up at the man who’d been teaching his child about Russians, apparently.

 

And immediately wished he’d taken a deeper breath because the man was absolutely gorgeous. Scratch that, he was  _ pretty _ . He was tall, with a lean build, a square jaw and cheekbones,  _ fuck _ , and thighs,  _ fuck _ , and he had a stubble and really, Clint shouldn’t think of him as pretty, he was a grown-ass man, but the guy just was. It was probably his hair, which was wavy and looked real soft, and was done half up, and his piercing blue-grey eyes and fuck he’d been staring, but Mr. Barnes was preoccupied by Soccer Mom #4, so Clint decided he was safe for now, provided that he’d be able to tear his eyes away from him, that is, and was he wearing purple butterfly clips? 

 

He shook his head to clear it and then turned back to Connor, cursing himself for getting so distracted by a pretty face when he had a kid to look after. It had been a really pretty face, but still. He watched as Connor collected his stuff and waved a quick “bye-bye Mr. B” to the teacher, before they left the school, chatting about the plans for that weekend. 

 

He mostly managed to put the hot teacher out of his mind for the next month, and if he thought about him once or twice in the shower and maybe asked Connor about him, well, that was no-one’s business but his own. (And Connor’s). (But he didn’t tell on him, because he was the fucking best kid).

 

However, now that he’d met Mr. Barnes, he kept seeing him everywhere. He happily ignored his brain supplying ‘the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon’ because, frankly, he was pretty sure he’d have noticed Barnes earlier, he pretty much ticked all of Clint’s boxes that he didn’t know he had. 

 

Not that he was complaining, mind. It was a wonderful surprise to see Barnes when he was doing his groceries, or from across the school playground when he came to pick up Connor, or randomly in the park. Not a problem at all, but he had a kid to worry about, he didn’t have time for playground crushes.

 

-o-

 

Clint officially hated parent-teacher meetings. Of course he loved learning about how Connor was doing in school and Steve was a great guy, but there was just something about sitting in a classroom at 9:30 at night, getting in after another parent rushed out and with the looming clock over his head, that made him uncomfortable. 

 

He was the last parent that evening, which meant that Steve was tired, probably completely done with parents, at least Clint would be, and Clint would also rather be in bed if he was being honest. About halfway through their limited time, Barnes popped his head through the open door frame, and Clint promptly forgot what Steve had been saying about Connor’s progress with reading, to stare at Barnes, completely unabashed. 

 

As Barnes or ‘Buck’, apparently, discussed who’d be closing the school, Barnes kept looking at Clint and yeah, it had been a while because he had a kid at home, but he also knew when someone was checking him out, and Clint really,  _ really _ , hoped he wasn’t reading into anything when Barnes looked straight at him when he said he’d close up the school, even though he’d already finished his meetings. 

 

With most of his brain cells focusing on Barnes through the rest of the meeting, it was a genuine, honest to God accident that he forgot his phone. Really. He’d just been… thinking about other things. After an apology in triple to Steve, he half jogged back to the classroom, then whined out a curse as he realised the classroom would be closed. Coming to a stop in front of the door, he happily saw the door was open. Huh. He’d swear that Steve had closed it. 

 

“Lookin’ for this?” came Barnes’ lazy Brooklyn drawl from inside the classroom, and honestly a line like that should be terrible when standing between tables that came up to mid-thigh and the admittedly terrible drawings made by little kids, but Clint couldn’t help a beaming smile at Barnes when he saw him holding up his phone with a matching smile that made Clint’s insides light up like the fucking Fourth of July. “Saw this when I was checkin’ if Steve had closed up properly, figured you’d show up eventually.” 

 

At that point, Clint’s brain short-circuited and he stopped dead in his tracks, halfway across the distance towards Barnes. He had been waiting for him? He was glad he’d read the situation correctly, but thinking he knew it and actually knowing it were clearly two different things. Luckily for him, Barnes walked towards him, saving his brain from remembering how to do things like walking. “It’s James, by the way, Steve’s the only one who still calls me Bucky aside from my sister.”

 

Clint just nodded, “James, got it,” and finally remembered how to walk, but at that point James was already standing in front of him. “Please tell me I haven’t read this the wrong way, by the way, because I’m like three seconds away from kissing you, even though we’re in my kid’s classroom.” Apparently remembering how to walk sent his brain into overdrive, completely losing his brain-to-mouth filter. 

 

James laughed at that, a big deep belly laugh that made Clint smile as well, despite his heart tattooing a heavy beat against his chest, but James assured him he hadn’t misread the situation. “Although I am also definitely opposed to the classroom situation, that’s a fantasy that dies pretty quick when you start teaching.” 

 

As they made their way out of the school, they couldn’t stop smiling at each other, to the point where eventually Clint cursed himself, he was a real fucking adult, for crying out loud, not a teenager with a crush. Just as he had almost convinced himself of that fact, they stepped outside and James’ hands came up to cup his face, searching his eyes for permission and pressing their lips together.

**Author's Note:**

> i missed the deadline in my timezone AND i don't really like the ending, but y'know, it's there.


End file.
